'I don't think I want to know what's being in heaven feels like anymore'
Motohama's hips drove forward with a controlled, powerful thrust that sent a shockwave through Kalawarner's entire body. Her back arched beautifully off the mattress, blue hairs splayed across the pillows, her lips parting in a breathless moan that she couldn't hold back.
"Haaah—! Yes… right there…!"
Her expression was nothing short of obscene. Half-lidded eyes glazed with pleasure, mouth hanging open, tongue occasionally peeking past her lips as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed through her. Every muscle in her toned, voluptuous body trembled with the aftershocks of each thrust, her bare legs wrapped tightly around his waist as if afraid he'd pull away.
Motohama leaned forward, his hands finding the generous display of her breasts as he squeezed firmly, his fingers sinking into the supple flesh as his thumbs circled her stiffened peaks.
"Mmmn—!" Kalawarner's breath hitched, her inner walls clenching around him in a vice grip that nearly made him lose his own composure. Her hands clawed at the sheets "This is… hah… the best one yet…!"
She wasn't exaggerating as the second round escalated far beyond the first. Where the opening act had been exploratory, heated, and fast, this was far deeper and deliberate. Every thrust found a spot inside her that made her toes curl, and she could feel the heat pooling in her core building toward something that threatened to shatter her entirely at any moment.
Motohama adjusted his grip, pulling her hips slightly upward
"F-Fuck—! Don't just— do that all of sudden—!"
He smirked down at her, sweat glistening on his brow "You don't seem to mind though"
Her cheeks flushed further, not from embarrassment, but from the overwhelming stimulation. Still, even through the fog of pleasure, her mind managed to form a coherent thought. One that had been lingering since he'd returned that afternoon.
"What… hah… what took you so long… with Sona Sitri?" she managed between ragged breaths, her body jolting with every movement he made inside her.
Motohama's pace didn't slow. If anything, his next thrust was deeper, drawing a soft moan from her lips that she tried, but failed to stifle.
"Nothing to be concerned about" he replied, his voice remarkably steady for someone buried to the hilt "Rias and her peerage are wrapped up with Rating Game preparation, so Sona's handling the ingredient supply for now"
"That's—ahhhn—that's all…?" Her back arched again as his thumb grazed across her nipple.
"Well…" His expression shifted, just slightly. A shadow of thought passing behind his eye "There's someone who's been hunting Stray Devils lately..."
That caught her attention, even through the haze. Kalawarner's pleasure-drunk eyes sharpened for just a fraction of a second. Her voice dropped half a register, breathless but serious.
"Don't tell me… you were bluffing about that bastard's death—"
Before she could finish the sentence, Motohama moved.
In one fluid motion, he pulled out, flipped her over onto her back, properly this time, her legs spread wide as he settled between them and drove himself back inside with a single, deep stroke that touched the very entrance of her entrance.
"AHHH—!"
The sound that ripped from Kalawarner's throat was beyond her control. Her entire body seized, her hands flying up to grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin hard enough to leave some marks.
Motohama pinned her down, his forehead nearly touching hers, his breath hot against her lips as he began to move again.
"Forget about that"
"W-Wait— that's too deep— I can't—mmmph—!"
Her protests melted into incoherent sounds as her body betrayed her completely, surrendering to the pleasure he delivered. Her hips moved on their own, rising to meet each downward stroke. The wet, obscene sounds of their joining filled the room alongside the creaking bed and her shameless cries.
Kalawarner's vision blurred. She could feel that devastating peak building again, coiling tighter and tighter in her lower abdomen like a spring wound past its breaking point.
"I'm— I'm going to—!"
His pace increased, faster, harder. The headboard slammed against the wall in a sweet motion as Motohama chased his own release alongside hers.
And then it hit.
Kalawarner's entire body convulsed as pleasure tore through her like lightning, her inner walls clamping down on him with crushing force. At the same moment, Motohama buried himself as deep as he could go and released the hot, pulsing flood that filled her completely.
For a long, trembling moment, neither of them moved. Their bodies were locked together, pulsing in sync, riding the fading waves of mutual climax. Kalawarner's chest heaved, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps of overstimulation prickling the corners of her eyes.
"…haah… you… you are different from what you look…" she whispered, her voice wrecked.
Motohama exhaled slowly, still inside her, feeling her warmth enveloping him completely "Hey, We're not done yet"
Her eyes widened "Wha—"
— ✦ —
They went on for hours.
Round after round.
By the time the afternoon sun had shifted to paint long golden streaks across the bedroom floor, Kalawarner was a complete and utter mess. Her body lay sprawled across the ruined sheets, hair disheveled beyond recognition, skin flushed from head to toe, her expression frozen in a look of pure, blissed-out satisfaction.
She was out cold.
A faint, content smile lingered on her lips even in unconsciousness, her chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of deep, exhausted sleep. Her body occasionally twitched, aftershocks still rippling through her even now.
Motohama sat on the edge of the bed, rolling his shoulders.
He wasn't even winded.
…This wasn't a problem, is it?
He flexed his hand, feeling the energy still humming through his muscles like a low current of electricity. Not a trace of fatigue. Not a hint of soreness. His stamina reserves felt barely dented, as if the earlier marathon session had been nothing more than a light warm-up.
He looked back at Kalawarner and then back at his own perfectly steady hands.
"Having this much stamina… is basically the equivalent of possessing a Longinus at this point"
He shook his head slowly, a wry smile tugging at his lips.
'The Longinus of Endurance. Yeah. That'd be one hell of a Sacred Gear'
Standing up, he grabbed a fresh shirt from the chair and pulled it on. The room smelled of sweat, exertion, and intimacy. He'd need to air it out later.
Growwwwl
"Right. Food first"
— ✦ — ✦ — ✦ —
Motohama descended the stairs quietly, the wood creaking softly beneath his weight as the scent of old books and faintly lingering incense reached his nose. His house was modest with better aesthetics, which he'd done his best to make it livable since his parents went for a trip overseas.
He rounded the corner into the living area, already thinking about what to scrounge from the kitchen, when the sight before him made him pause.
Asia Argento sat on the main couch with her legs folded beneath her, surrounded by a small fortress of opened magic books. Thick tomes with weathered spines, loose-leaf pages covered in diagrams, and a worn notebook where she was scribbling notes in careful, meticulous handwriting.
Her expression was one of pure, undiluted concentration.
Brows slightly furrowed, emerald eyes scanning line after line with an intensity that could bore holes through the pages, her lips occasionally moving as she silently mouthed words she was trying to memorize. The evening light filtering through the curtain caught the golden strands of her hair, giving her the look of some scholarly angel, which, given her history, wasn't far off.
Motohama watched for a moment, genuinely impressed.
Then he walked up behind her.
"Looks like you are getting hang of it, huh?"
"HYAAH—!"
Asia nearly launched off the couch, the book in her hands flying upward as she scrambled to catch it, her face cycling through surprise, panic, and relief in the span of half a second.
"M-M-Motohama-san! Please don't sneak up on me like that!"
He held up his hands in mock surrender, chuckling, before rounding the couch and settling into the opposite seat with a casual drop. He leaned back, one arm draped over the backrest, and regarded her with a warm smile.
"I think you would become a fine mage, Asia"
The words hung in the air between them.
Asia blinked, the residual panic fading from her face as the meaning of his statement registered. She looked down at the books surrounding her, then back up at him, her expression shifting to something uncertain.
"C-Can I…? I don't know if I would be able to—"
"Come on" Motohama cut her off gently, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His smile turned knowing "I was just as bad at learning as you think you are"
She tilted her head, doubt still lingering in her green eyes.
"But" he continued, holding up a finger "with enough time and practice" He paused, letting a note of genuine pride slip into his voice "I can say this much: I've learned various spells in just few weeks. Barrier magic. Teleportation circles. Even a few elemental ones"
Asia's eyes went wide.
"R-Really?! Teleportation and elemental magic?! That's amazing, Motohama-san!" She clasped her hands together, leaning forward with stars practically twinkling in her eyes "You must be incredibly talented!"
'More like incredibly stubborn' he thought, but he accepted the praise with a modest wave of his hand "It's just grinding. Nothing glamorous" He shifted, crossing one leg over the other "More importantly, are you settling in okay here? How's school been?"
The question was overdue, and he knew it. Between the endless potion brewing sessions with Kalawarner and the various complications that kept piling up, he hadn't had the time or, honestly, the mental bandwidth to check in on how Asia was adjusting to her new life. A former nun, excommunicated from the Church, now living in a safe house with a human schemer and a Fallen Angel.
'Not exactly a smooth transition in one's life'
But the smile that bloomed across Asia's face at the question was radiant enough to dispel any worry.
"It's been wonderful!" she exclaimed, her voice bright with genuine happiness. "The school is so lively, and everyone has been so kind. Kiryuu-san showed me around the campus on my first day, and the teachers are very patient with me since I'm still learning some of the subjects. Oh! And the lunch options had so many choices! Back at the church we only ever had—"
She caught herself, the shadow of old memories flickering across her expression for just a moment before she shook it away with a determined little nod and continued telling until.
"…And I wanted to say, thank you, Motohama-san. For everything. For saving me, for giving me a home, for enrolling me in school… You've done so much for me, and I—"
"We're friends, Asia. So don't worry yourself for it"
The simple statement stopped her mid-sentence.
Motohama said it plainly, without fanfare, meeting her gaze directly "And more than that, we're part of the same team like a family"
Asia's eyes widened. Not in surprise at the concept, but at the weight of it. The belonging it implied. Her lips parted, trembled for just a moment and then she smiled. A real smile. One that reached all the way to her eyes and lit up her entire face.
"…Yes! We are!"
Motohama nodded, satisfied, and pushed himself up from the couch. The potion ingredients weren't going to brew themselves, and he'd already lost the afternoon to… extracurricular activities upstairs.
"Well, I should get back to—"
"Motohama-san..."
He stopped mid-step, turning back. Asia was looking at him with an expression he couldn't quite read, hesitant, part earnest? with her fingers nervously fidgeting in her lap.
'Please don't thank me again'
"Um… I have a request" she said carefully.
'A request? That's unusual coming from her' He raised an eyebrow "What's up?"
Asia took a breath, steeling herself with determination.
"Could you… please treat Kalawarner-san well?"
Motohama blinked.
'…Where the hell did that come from?'
He ran a quick mental check. Had he been rude to Kalawarner? Dismissive? He'd been working her hard with the potion brewing for long hours, repetitive work, the occasional sharp comment when she got lazy but nothing he'd consider mistreatment.
"What do you mean?" he asked, genuinely confused.
Asia's gaze dropped to her lap as she continued "Earlier… when I went upstairs to bring you both tea and cookies… I heard Kalawarner-san through the door"
Motohama raised a brow.
"She was… screaming in pain" Asia looked up at him with those impossibly pure, concerned green eyes "And she kept asking for you to spare her..."
Oh no.
"So, please…" Asia pressed her hands together in a pleading gesture, her expression painfully earnest "She works very hard....she wants to be treated kindly…"
She looked at him with genuine, hopeful concern.
He closed his eyes, drew a slow, measured breath and smiled.
"…Yeah. I'll treat her well"
'What could I have said?'
Asia's face lit up like a sunrise "Really?! Thank you, Motohama-san! I knew you were kind!"
He gave her a thumbs-up and walked toward the kitchen with carefully measured steps.
The moment he was out of her line of sight, his hand came up and pressed firmly against his face as his eyes now held a new fire in them.
'A noise cancellation spell'
"That is now my number one priority"
— ✦ — ✦ — ✦ —
The evening air carried with it the bite of approaching autumn as Motohama made his way through the industrial district on the outskirts of Kuoh, after potion brewing grind and learning the noise cancellation spell for future uses.
Streetlights buzzed overhead him, some flickering, some dead entirely casting the cracked pavement in alternating patches of sickly orange light and deep shadows.
The abandoned factory stood at the end of a dead-end road. A chain-link fence surrounded, though sections of it had long since collapsed inward, leaving gaps wide enough to walk through without breaking stride.
And standing before the main entrance, arms crossed with the patience of a statue carved from ice was.
Tsubaki Shinra.
The Vice President of the Student Council was as composed as ever. Her long black hair fell down her back, stirring gently in the evening breeze. Her eyes behind her elegant glasses locked onto Motohama as he approached, tracking him with the precision of a hawk.
"You're on time" she noted.
"You say that like it's unusual"
"It is"
He let that slide with a shrug.
They stood side by side for a moment, both regarding the factory's entrance, a pair of massive sliding doors, one of which hung askew on a single remaining hinge, the other missing entirely.
"Shall we?" Motohama gestured forward.
Tsubaki gave a curt nod, and they entered.
The interior was exactly what one would expect from a facility that had been abandoned for the better part of a decade. The main floor was a vast, cavernous space, easily the size of a gymnasium with concrete flooring cracked and buckled by time and neglect.
The air smelled of rust, stagnant water and something that made Motohama's nose wrinkle.
Blood.
"The report from President indicated the Stray Devil was killed here yesterday evening" Tsubaki said, her voice echoing slightly in the vast space. She adjusted her glasses, her gaze scanning the area "But the details surrounding the kill were… inconsistent."
"Inconsistent how?"
"The method. Stray Devils of this caliber don't go down easily, this one was a former mid-tier Devil with mutation. Enhanced regeneration and limb distortion" She stepped over a collapsed section of railing "Yet it's body..what remained of it, showed signs of clean, precise dismemberment"
Motohama frowned, crouching beside a dark stain on the concrete floor. The blood had dried to a deep, almost black color. Claw marks from the Stray, presumably scored the ground nearby, suggesting a struggle. But only from one side.
"So whoever did this was significantly stronger..." he murmured.
"And, significantly more skilled"
They moved deeper into the factory, passing through a narrow corridor flanked by gutted offices. Filing cabinets lay overturned, desks shoved against walls, glass crunching underfoot. The deeper they went, the stronger the residual energy became, a faint, almost imperceptible pressure against his senses that told him something powerful had been here.
Motohama and Tsubaki emerged into a secondary workspace—a loading area with a high, vaulted ceiling and a wide opening in the far wall where trucks would have once backed in. Moonlight spilled through the gap, painting the floor in pale silver.
"There's no magical residue consistent with any of the registered Devil households" Tsubaki continued, pulling a small scanning device from her pocket, a magical tool calibrated to detect demonic energy signatures. "Whoever did this either masked their presence deliberately, or—"
"...they aren't a Devil at all" Motohama finished.
Tsubaki's eyes narrowed behind her glasses "That was my conclusion as well. It's work of-"
"Heeey~! Up here!!!"
A cheerful, bright, utterly out-of-place voice rang out from above them, putting their investigation discussion to halt.
Both of them snapped their gazes upward, and Motohama's eyes widened seeing the individuals perched on the upper floor railing overhead.
Jeanne sat casually on the railing, dangling her feet playfully as if she were on a park bench. Her blonde hair caught what little light filtered through the grimy windows, and she waved down at them with the enthusiasm of someone greeting old friends at a café.
Standing beside her, arms crossed and expression unreadable, was Siegfried. The silver hair fell across his face, partially obscuring his eyes, but the weight of his presence was unmistakable. His hand rested near the hilt of his sword.
Tsubaki's entire demeanor shifted in an instant. Her glasses gleamed as violet energy crackled around her fingers, defensive barriers already forming as she stepped ahead of Motohama "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice cold and sharp "State your purpose"
But Motohama barely heard her.
His mind was reeling with different thoughts.
'What are they doing here?! Did i mess up the plot so badly that season 4 antagonists are showing up in Season 1!'
The familiar chime echoed in his head, cutting through his spiraling thoughts like a knife.
The translucent blue window materialized before his eyes, visible only to him.
- - -
[ Quest: Survive! ]
[ Objective: Make it out alive ]
[ Reward: Rank 3 Gacha Ticket ]
- - -
'Survive?'
The system never gave quests like this. Never something so ominous. The cheerful tone of the notification felt like mockery against the single, damning word: Survive
Motohama took out his Cross Tail as his gaze met with Jeanne's never wavering smile, looking back at him.
. . .
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